Obsession
by NotMyDivision221
Summary: Trauma steered me toward rituals. Rituals transformed into obsessions. Obsessions turned my life into a living hell. Until I met Magnus Bane, who hides secrets behind doors not unlike mine. He changed my life, and I was ready to change his. But someone else's obsession got in the way.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! I'm finally back! About damn time too. Sorry for the wait, folks. So glad to have another Malec fic up and running. I've got an emotional roller coaster planned for this story, as well as some hot and steamy love. There are going to be some raw topics covered, some things I haven't introduced before. So this ought to be interesting. Anyway, I shan't keep you all waiting any longer. I hope you enjoy this first peek at the story! Cheers, readers!**

* * *

The first thing I could hear was the pounding of blood in my ears, like a relentless metronome inside my head. Next was the clamour of people, and then, far away in the distance, sirens. The entire right side of my skull throbbed, and the incessant noise was doing little to assuage the pain. Slowly, my eyes peeled open and a wave of confusion rushed over me. I was upside down, and the seatbelt latching me to my seat was digging painfully into my chest and stomach. Ahead of me, the front windshield was spiderwebbed, a beautiful kaleidoscope of fragments splattered here and there with red.

That was when I saw him: The driver in the front seat. Like me, he was still securely buckled into his seat, but past him I could see the large dark splotch of blood smearing the window of his door. Over the surrounding noise, I could hear the faint _plip, plip_ of blood dripping from the driver's head and landing in the pool below him— on the roof of the cab. I could not tell if the man was still alive or if I was staring at a dead body.

My head turned and my focus snagged on the condition of the driver's side of the cab: Both doors were caved inward and the backseat window had been reduced to a small pile of shards now littering the inside of the vehicle. Outside the car, I could see vehicles lined up behind the crosswalk, their hazard lights flashing in rhythm with the dripping of blood from the driver's head. One was farther out in the intersection than the others. People were crowding the street and sidewalk, pointing and holding up cell phones. But those distractions could not keep my eyes drawn away from the state of the door. With the window gone and the frame smashed inward, it was less than secure. It might as well have been wide open, ripped clean off its hinges.

My heart rapidly began to accelerate and a shudder rippled down my spine as though someone had blown a cold breath against the back of my neck.

 _This is it, Alec. Five seconds. Five seconds of fear._

 _One._

A ragged whimper escaped my dry throat.

 _Two._

My dangling hands jerked up to claw at the seatbelt that strangled me and sucked the air out of my chest.

 _Three._

My entire body began to quake, from the hanging tips of my hair to my feet, which swayed above me. For a moment I thought I was going to pass out.

 _Four._

My hand whipped out and grasped the door handle beside me, but it did not budge even a fraction as I tried to push it open. Even the window remained sturdily in place as I shoved at it. I had to get out of the car; my anxiety was choking me and I could no longer breathe.

 _Five._

I screamed. The sound was even terrifying to my own ears, but I could not stop. Fear's victorious laugh, disguised as my scream, continued in an endless song.

Suddenly, a surge of adrenaline hit me like a splash of cold water to the face. My cry cut off and I blinked back tears, numb to everything except the urge to get free of my cage. I braced my hands against the roof of the cab and inhaled deeply.

"Hello?"

The voice was so loud with my sharpened hearing that I jumped, and the car rocked slightly in response. My head whipped to the side and I saw someone peering into the cab through the window frame. He was crouched on the street, his hands raised like he was approaching a frightened animal.

"Can you hear me?" he asked, his words slow and deliberate.

After a moment, I nodded. "Y-yeah."

He smiled and inched closer to the destroyed door. "Listen to me, okay? You were in an accident, but help is on the way and we're going to get you out of there."

Under his calm and soothing voice I could hear the approaching sirens, but they weren't close enough.

With one hand still pushing against the roof, I reached with my other for the buckle of my seat belt.

"Hey," the guy's voice was still composed, but it had heightened in volume. "Don't move, okay? You may have sustained injuries in the accident, and it's a good idea to stay still until the crew gets here and can safely extract you."

I looked at him, staring at his reassuring smile, but my hand was already tapping against my seatbelt. My eyes caught slits of light slipping through the edges of the doorframe. Though it was still jammed shut, all my mind could concentrate on was the fact that the door was partially open.

"That's not going to work for me," I said. My foot joined my hand in a tapping motion. The tics were getting worse.

"Trust me. I'm a doctor. Staying still is going to be better for you in the long run."

"I can't." I bit down on my lip to prevent the escape of the following string of words. _I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't._

"Yes you can, and I'm going to help you. We're going to wait out the next two minutes and then—"

My mind was already calculating, thus blocking out the stranger's next words. _Sixty seconds in one minute, one hundred and twenty in two. One hundred and twenty divided by five is twenty-four. Twenty-four repetitions._

My head started to spin. I pushed hard against the roof and felt my body press closer to the seat. "One," I counted aloud as my fingers pushed against the buckle. The seatbelt popped free and I fell from the seat, landing hard on my shoulder. The guy outside, the _doctor_ , was shouting, urging me to stay put, but I was already pushing myself onto my hands and knees.

"Two," I whispered.

The ground and car were moving, tilting and slanting, making it difficult even to crawl toward the open window.

"Three."

My hand slipped in the sticky puddle of blood beneath me; I did not spare one second to even look at the driver, still silent behind the wheel.

"Four."

Without even attempting to push the door open, I stretched my hands through the window and reached for the street. The guy outside grabbed one of my arms to steady me. Tiny sharp shards of glass bit into my palm as I all but threw myself through the window. Slivers of pain licked at my knees as they hit the ground hard, glass slicing through my jeans and skin.

The stranger was still holding my arm, albeit loosely. Shakily, I pushed myself to my feet and straightened. Up close, I could see that his eyes were a unique yellow-green, and about as wide as dinner plates.

"Five," I breathed, right before the world disappeared and I began to fall.

* * *

"Alexander," a voice called. "Can you hear me?"

I stirred, struggling to breach the surface of consciousness. Before my eyes opened, I became aware of the warmth around me, the slight pressure against my left index finger, and a dull pulsing pain that stretched from my neck to my temples. After they opened, I saw that I was in a small bed, white blankets pulled up to my waist. A gray plastic clip covered my index finger, and connected to it was a wire that hooked up to a monitor. My heart rhythm and blood pressure stared at me from the screen. They last thing I noticed was the man standing at the foot of the bed.

His smile was warm and friendly. "Hello, Alexander. Do you remember me?"

My forehead wrinkled as I squinted at him. He _did_ look familiar. I remembered his yellow-green eyes; they were the last things I saw before. . .

"You were outside the cab." My voice was weak. "You're the doctor."

He nodded. "Very good." There was a binder in his hands. Still smiling, he began to scan through the documents inside, flipping the pages loudly. _My chart,_ I realized. _He's reading my chart._ As he sifted through my medical history, the man shifted his weight and my eyes flitted to the open doorway behind him.

My pulse jumped in my throat, and through the corner of my vision I saw the numbers on the monitor beside me change. Spiking. My right-hand fingers, at rest beside me, began to tap against my thigh. The bed was already propped up at a gentle angle, so I didn't have to struggle quite so hard to sit up. It was when I turned my body to get my legs over the edge that the doctor noticed me.

He stepped forward, his hand out. "Whoa there. You can't be wandering around; you're body is still recovering. I'm putting you on strict bed rest."

"I, uh, I just need to. . ."

His hand gently pressed against my chest, preventing me from getting up. "Whatever you need, I can grab for you. Just lean back and relax."

"I can't." My hand raked through my hair, and my eyes were magnetized to the doorway. The heart rate monitor began to beep.

"Alexander—"

"The door!" My voice peaked in severity and desperation. "Please, just please, close the door!"

The doctor stepped back, a look of puzzlement on his face. To his credit, he made no comment as he turned around and shut the door quietly. As soon as it clicked securely, I collapsed back against the pillows and let out a shaky breath. My heartbeat began to steady itself as I counted in my head: _One, two, three, four, five._ When I dared to look at the doctor again, he was watching me with patient, almost understanding eyes.

"Better?" he asked, not a hint of condescension in his tone.

I nodded.

"Good." He placed the binder on a nearby portable table and approached the side of my bed. His slender fingers reached into the breast pocket of his white lab coat and withdrew a slim silver cylinder. He lifted his index finger and held it in front of my face. "Look here for me please." I followed his instruction and tried not to blink as he briefly shone the flashlight in front of each of my eyes. Satisfied, he stepped back and pocketed the light. "Can you tell me what you remember from the accident, Alexander?"

I took a minute to think. "I woke up and I was upside down."

"Nothing before that?"

"No."

"I witnessed it. Your cab was first in line in the left-hand turning lane. The light turned green and in the middle of the intersection, your cab was hit by a delivery truck that sped through the red light. The truck's impact was so intense that the cab actually did a complete roll before landing upside down."

I swallowed past the lump of shock in my throat. "I don't remember any of that."

"Your head hit the window pretty hard, which made you lose consciousness. You may or may not regain memory of the initial impact. A little anxiety is normal should the memory return."

"The driver. . . ?"

The doctor's smile dissipated. "He passed away at the scene."

I looked down at my palm. The blood I'd crawled through had been washed clean from my skin. All that remained were the scattered punctures from the broken window.

"The other driver suffered a heart attack immediately after the accident. He also passed away. You're very lucky you were sitting on the passenger side of that cab, Alexander. I don't think you'd have survived otherwise."

"Yeah," I said flatly. "I'm a pretty lucky guy."

The doctor smiled and picked up the binder again. "The bump on your head gave you a minor concussion, so I'm going to keep you overnight for observation. Just as a precaution. Expect some tenderness in your neck for a few days, which may result in headaches. We've got you on some pretty nice pain meds right now, so you should be comfortable for the night. None of your ribs were broken, but you have sustained some bruising from the seat restraint. That'll fade in a few days. Now, your mother was listed as your emergency contact—"

I stiffened. "You didn't call her, did you?"

He smiled sympathetically. "She's out in the waiting room. Someone came with her, your girlfriend perhaps?"

Heat crept into my cheeks. "That's my sister. I don't have a girlfriend."

"I see. I can tell them to come back tomorrow if you'd like."

I let out a breath. "That's okay. They can come in." I couldn't push my mother away, not when she'd driven all this way to see me. Not to mention she was probably worried out of her mind.

The doctor smiled. "I'll send them your way. A nurse will be in to check on you later." He paused for a moment. "There is one last thing I wanted to discuss with you. During your examination, I noticed several bruises scattered across your torso and abdomen. Bruises in their late stages of healing. Bruises that weren't caused by this accident."

I looked down at my lap. "No. I got those a few weeks ago."

His voice was gentle. "They must have been pretty severe to still be healing."

"They weren't that bad." _Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies._

"I see. I'll go get your family. Press that button beside you if you need anything." He reached his hand for the doorknob.

"Um, thank you," I blurted before he could pull it open. "Thank you for helping me, Doctor. . . ?"

His smiled broadened. "Bane. Take care, Alexander." He opened the door and stepped through it, thankfully closing it tightly behind him.

I leaned back against the pillows and closed my eyes. In the dark stillness, I could see his eyes, so much like gold and emerald leaves on a tree. His voice lingered in my head, as calming as wind chimes in a delicate breeze. Most of all, I felt the heat on my arm from where his gentle hands had clutched me, keeping me steady and catching me right before I hit the ground.

The door suddenly flew open and two dark-haired figures rushed in. I started and jerked upright, just in time for a slight body to grab me in a tight embrace. I winced at the onslaught of pain, but wrapped my arms around my little sister and held her tightly. When she pulled back, there were faint smudges of mascara trailing down her cheeks with her tears.

"Alec Lightwood," Isabelle said, her voice shaky but stern. "You scared us half to death! Don't you ever do that again!"

"I know. I'm sorry." I reached out and squeezed her hand.

My mother sat at the foot of my bed, her hand pressed to her mouth and her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. Needles pricked at the backs of my eyes; I hated seeing my mom cry. When she found the strength to stand again, she leaned over the bedside railing and gathered me into her arms. Her hand stroked my hair over and over, nearly lulling me to sleep. Her arms fell away and she gently held my face in her hands, her eyes searching every pore of my skin.

"Alexander," she whispered. "Your face. . ."

Though I couldn't feel it through the pain medication, I guessed the side of my face had been bruised pretty badly. My cheek puffed into my peripheral vision, swollen.

"I'm okay, Mom," I assured her, my voice steady.

Her smile was unconvinced, but she hugged me against her again, this time a bit tighter. I rested my uninjured cheek against her shoulder. Isabelle was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, but my gaze was abruptly magnetized to the open doorway. My sister noticed my body stiffen straight away and followed my line of vision. Without a word, she got up and closed the door. I mouthed a thank you to her and she replied with a watery-eyed smile. My attention returned to my mother, who was whispering my name over and over. I remembered all too vividly the last time she had held me like this, trying to comfort herself and her child at the same time. It had only been a few weeks ago, after all.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I murmured into her shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

Her hand rubbed up and down my back in a soothing motion. "Shh. You have nothing to apologize for, Alexander."

I closed my eyes and let myself melt into her embrace. But I couldn't help wondering how many times my mother would have to hold her son, bruised, beaten, and bloodied, in her arms.


	2. Chapter 2 (Date)

**Okay. Wow. It has been WAY too long since I updated this story. I won't take away any more time from it. Hope you enjoy it! Much love!**

* * *

The staircase to my apartment was so narrow that Isabelle, my mother, and I had to trudge up the steps single file. I was at the front of the line; Isabelle patiently matched my pace, carrying a backpack of my things without complaint. She'd been kind enough to bring me a couple pairs of fresh clothes to change into upon my discharge from the hospital. The bloodied shirt and jeans I'd been wearing at the time of the accident were currently in a trash bin in the hospital's men's room.

A short sigh of relief escaped me as we reached the floor of my apartment. The exertion of climbing the stairs had begun to make my chest and head ache. I reached a hand out to steady myself as I caught my breath.

"Alexander!" My mother was at my side in an instant. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I assured her. "The climb was tougher than I remember."

She smiled reassuringly. "Give it time. Where's your key? I'll open the door."

I shook my head and stood up straight. The door to my apartment had been in need of a replacement since before I started renting. It required a bit of . . . aggression to get inside. It was better to spare my mother's disapproval until we were actually inside.

The key slid into the lock smoothly and, as I turned the knob, I threw all my weight into the door. It swung open, and I barely caught myself before falling to the ground. Normally, body slamming the door barely gave me a bruise, but today the weakened push brought white spots to my eyes. I blinked them away and straightened before my mother could fuss over me some more.

Isabelle and my mother stalked inside the apartment, their heads craning in every direction. There wasn't much to see; the apartment was tiny, and comparing it to my mother's home was like comparing a steak dinner to an expired can of watery tuna. I could feel a flush rising in my cheeks as they looked around. The one bedroom, one bath, appeared to be the perfect place to get robbed.

"Well," my mother said, not meeting my eyes, "it's not without its charm."

Isabelle smiled brightly and spread her arms wide. "I like it!"

I found myself all too aware of the wallpaper peeling behind me. "I know it's not much, but it's beyond affordable, and it's actually safe. It's perfect for me."

My mother was in the kitchen, inspecting the overhead cabinet that had been duct taped shut. Her slender fingers brushed over the tape's silver surface as she turned to face me, a question poised on the lips.

"It wouldn't stay shut," I answered quietly before she could ask.

She nodded, understanding at once. I gave them a few minutes to glance into the bedroom and bathroom; they were diligent in making sure the doors were shut firmly behind them when they were finished. Afterward, the three of us crowded onto the couch I'd bought second-hand.

"So, what shall we have for dinner?"

I flinched at my mom's too-enthusiastic tone. "You really don't have to stay. I'll be fine." A hurt look flashed across her face so I quickly rectified, "It's not that I don't appreciate having you here, but I know my apartment is kind of a dump and I'd feel better if you both went home to get some rest."

"I do have an exam I need to study for," Isabelle conceded. She flashed a subtle wink in my direction, one I returned appreciatively. My little sister always knew when I needed space.

My mother placed her hand on my shoulder. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"I've got my pain meds, and Luke already told me to take as much time off work as I need."

Luke Garroway, the owner of a tasteful book store, had already promised me paid leave, but I had no intention of giving away my shifts. Working kept my mind from straying in dangerous directions.

"If you insist." My mother placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head and rose from the couch. "Come along, Izzy."

My sister enveloped me in a delicate hug. I ruffled her hair as she pulled away, sparking an annoyed eye roll from her. I lifted my hand in a wave and plastered a smile on my face as the two of them yanked open the door and filed out, slamming it shut behind them. The faux happiness faded the second they were out of sight. With a heavy sigh, I collapsed back down onto the couch, the springs groaning disapprovingly. Exhaustion tugged at my eyelids. A slow, tight ache yanked at each of my muscles. When I turned my head I could see the bag of pills from the pharmacy on the kitchen counter; it was so close yet I wished I'd brought them over before sitting down. My legs felt ready to give way just looking at it.

Wincing, I lifted myself off the couch and shuffled into the kitchen. I filled a glass with water, ripped open the medication's packaging, and swallowed the prescribed dosage. My eyes closed as I braced both hands on the counter and waited for the blessed relief of the painkillers to kick in. In the darkness behind my eyelids, I saw a car racing toward me, crashing into me.

 _Crash, crash, crash, crash, crash._

Gritting my teeth, I rocked back from the counter and made my way to the bathroom. Ignoring the screaming of my injuries, I ripped my shirt over my head and looked in the cracked mirror at my reflection. My torso was a collage of black and blue, bruises spotting almost every inch of pale skin over my ribs and upper chest. I turned slightly and could see the dark green and yellow splotches, memories that I wanted to claw out of my skull. Absently my fingers reached up to touch one of the small circular scars on my shoulder.

 _Who could ever love you?_ a voice in my mind crooned.

 _Bad thoughts,_ the logical side countered. _Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad._

Disgusted with myself, I turned and made my way to the bedroom. Gently lowering myself onto the mattress, I grabbed the duvet and pulled it up over my head. In the faint shadows I waited for sleep to take me. When I was finally pulled under, I dreamed of car crashes, open doorways, and a staircase.

* * *

The streets were unusually crowded, businesses vomiting and gobbling up consumers in every direction. I'd taken the subway on my way to Luke's bookstore, which had been horrid enough, but now I found myself wishing I was still crammed inside the tube. It was out of the question to hail a cab, but every passing moment had me weighing the option as I hurried past open doorways and through throngs of people. At last I reached Luke's and nearly threw myself into the shop. A petite girl with red hair glanced up with a smile at the chime of the bell over the door, but her expression was quickly replaced with one of astonishment when she recognized me.

"Alec?" she gasped. "What are you doing here?" She scrambled out from behind the desk and rushed over to me. Her hands hovered in front of her like she wanted to touch me and make sure I was all in one piece but didn't want to hurt me. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Clary." I offered my most convincing smile. "I'm on shift today."

Clary bit her lip, looking skeptical. "I'm covering for you today. Go talk with Luke if you have a problem with it." With that, she turned and took up her position behind the front desk, going out of her way to pretend I didn't exist.

I grinned at her antics and began to wind my way through the store in search of Luke. His tall, broad-shouldered figure was hunched over in the Sci-Fi section, a finger running over the spines of books lining the shelf. I cleared my throat and he turned, a wheel of expressions much like Clary's passing over his face.

"Alexander Lightwood, what in God's name are you doing here?" he demanded. "I thought I told you to get some rest? Clary is covering your shifts."

"I don't need rest. I need to work." I peered around Luke at the shelf behind him. "What are you looking for?"

Luke crossed his arms stubbornly. "Nothing. Go home and recover."

I took in my boss's tousled hair and shadow of stubble. His glasses were slightly askew and there was dirt on his flannel shirt. His expression was collected, which, to anyone else would have appeared calm, but I knew him well enough to know he was stressed.

"You need help. Here I am. One plus one equals two."

"Yeah, well, two plus zero also equals two."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Math never made any sense to me, nor does your wandering around when you should be resting." Luke waved his hand in dismissal. "Go home, Alec."

"Please let me stay," I begged. "I need to keep my mind busy."

Luke sighed and scratched his head, mussing his hair into further disarray. "At least take a couple days off. The whole week is off the table, but three days of recuperation won't kill you."

"Two days."

Luke made a show of rolling his eyes. "Fine. Come back in two days. Now get out of my store."

My shoulders sagged in relief. "Thanks. See you later." I heard him shout _TWO DAYS_ after me, and I couldn't help but grin. Clary was shaking her head as I passed, but the hint of a smirk was noticeable. She said something about a dead man walking, which only made my smile wider. Closing the shop door firmly behind me and swiftly counting to five, I began to make my way down the bustling street. As I debated taking the bus or the subway, my attention was snagged on a large building a few blocks to my right. The hospital. A strange sensation tugged at my stomach, gluing me in place on the street corner, much to the annoyance of passersby around me. After a few moments of debating, I allowed my feet to carry me in the direction of the hospital. All the while, I could only think of one thing: Magnus Bane. His dark hair, golden-green eyes, and kind smile. Again, the strange feeling washed over me, so strong this time I had to stop in my tracks.

 _What is going on?_

For a moment I thought some internal bleeding had gone untreated from the accident and I began to panic, until I realized the sensation came and went with the thoughts of Magnus Bane. I shook my head, drawing attention to myself from people walking around me.

 _It's not_ that _,_ I tried to convince myself. _You just want to thank him._

With a single nod, I made my way into the building. Following my memory, I made my way up to the unit I'd been discharged from and approached a clerk sitting at the front desk. She hung up the phone and smiled brightly at me. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Dr. Bane." At her slightly puzzled look I added, "I'm a patient of his, and I have a question about my medication."

She began searching the desk for some papers. One to track him down, I hoped. "I hope you didn't travel far. You could have just called."

My fingers began tapping against my thigh. Thankfully the desk was tall enough that the clerk couldn't see. "I also wanted to thank him. For saving my life."

"That's kind of you." She picked up a single paper and her brown eyes scanned over it. "It looks like he's in surgery right now. Would you like to leave your name and number so someone can get back to you?"

My fingers began tapping faster. _One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five._

I shook my head. "No thank you. I'll wait downstairs." The clerk began to protest, but I'd already headed toward the unit's exit.

 _This was such a dumb idea,_ the voice in my mind snaps. _It's not like he'd actually want to see you again._

The words went straight to my heart, which was why I was surprised when I seated myself on a bench in the middle of the atrium, between the elevators and the cafeteria. There, I waited. An hour and a half went by as my fingers tapped and my hands flapped at my sides. Some patients and staff cast concerned glances in my direction, but I was thankfully not approached by anyone. Just as I considered it was time to leave, a faint but familiar voice caught my ear. I turned and saw three young men, all dressed in scrubs, step off an elevator. One of them was Magnus Bane. My heart stopped in my chest and I rose to my feet so fast that I almost lost my balance and fell over. The group was headed to the cafeteria. This was my chance.

Hand flapping at my side, I hurried to catch up to the group and called, "Dr. Bane?"

Magnus turned, his beautiful eyes two question marks until they settled on me. "Alexander Lightwood?"

I was thrilled that he remembered my name, but the doctor didn't seem all that elated to see me. A lump formed in my throat as he stared at me. The two other doctors had turned to wait for Magnus, and now all three of them were looking at me. I threw my hands behind my back to hide the stemming.

"Is everything all right?" Magnus asked in my silence.

"Yeah," I said. "I just wanted to talk to you."

Magnus took the hint with grace. He promised to meet his friends in the cafeteria and watched them leave before turning back to me. He approached, making the slight height difference between us more notable. Even if it was only a few inches, I felt incredibly smaller than him.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" he asked.

"Of course. I just wanted to thank you, Magnus, for saving my life." The doctor's eyebrow went up at the mention of his first name and I winced. "Sorry. Your name was on my prescription. Dr. Bane."

"It's okay." He shook his head. "You can call me Magnus, Alexander."

Butterflies took flight in my stomach. "You can call me Alec."

"If you insist, Alec. Though I do like Alexander better."

I ducked my head to hide the blush rising in my cheeks.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Magnus asked.

"Actually, I was wondering," I began, surprising myself, "if you'd like to get a drink tonight?" _Nothing wrong with a drink. Innocent enough. Casual._

"I can't tonight," Magnus said shortly.

The rejection cut through me like a knife, though I tried not to show it. I nodded once and forced a smile. "I understand."

As I turned to walk away, Magnus reached out a hand and his fingertips brushed over my wrist. The slight touch was like an electrical charge, sparking my entire body to life.

"I'm working tonight. But I'd love to go for coffee tomorrow morning."

 _I hate coffee._ "That sounds great!"

Magnus smiled, which nearly made my knees give out from under me. "Pick me up here at 8:15?"

I had to catch myself from saying _it's a date_. Instead I smiled back. "I'll be here."

Magnus's smile widened. "See you tomorrow, Alexander." With that, he hurried off to meet up with his friends. I couldn't help grinning to myself as I walked through the hospital and outside. The sun suddenly felt much warmer, and my hands were still at my sides.

* * *

The next morning came much too quickly. The night prior I'd only been able to narrow my wardrobe down to two outfits before succumbing to sleep. Now I stared at them both displayed across my bed, forcing down the incoming panic. The voice in my head was telling me to cancel, but I didn't have Magnus's number, and I couldn't bring myself to leave him standing outside the hospital waiting for me. Which meant I had to make my decision. It was between a gray sweater with a hole in the hem, or a dark blue plaid shirt. With the latter, I'd have to roll the sleeves up to the elbows because this was coffee, not dinner. Not a date. The former was much nicer yet still casual, though the hole kept making faces at me as I deliberated. Eventually I picked the sweater; it somehow seemed more human and less imposing. Like this wasn't a date. After pairing the top with a wrinkle-free pair of jeans, I moved into the bathroom to check my hair. There were several unruly tufts that would not be tamed no matter what I tried, and at 7:30 I forced myself to give up. This was as good as I was going to get. I skipped the pain meds to avoid unwanted drowsiness, grabbed my keys and wallet, and left the apartment.

Magnus Bane was waiting outside the hospital entrance when I finally arrived. My nerves were already causing my fingers to tap multiples of five against my thigh, but Magnus's warm smile was comforting.

"Good morning," he said brightly. "Beautiful day."

Somehow I guessed Magnus wasn't actually referring to the weather, but I only smiled and nodded. "Ready to go?"

"I've been ready since yesterday."

I tried -and failed- to hide the flush of my cheeks as we turned and headed down the block. Magnus seemed to take the lead, and I followed gratefully. Fifty different topics of conversation rushed through my mind, yet I could barely manage to pry my lips apart. Magnus didn't seem to mind the silence, but after a few moments he thankfully took charge.

"There's this great little café everyone at work talks about. I'd love to go there if you don't mind."

"Not at all."

"They supposedly have the best coffee in the city."

 _I hate coffee._ "Sounds great."

"I was actually headed there the day you and I met. Only managed to get a couple sips in."

Magnus's reference to the accident was so casual it was like primed paint gliding smoothly over a blank canvas. It almost seemed as though we'd accidentally bumped into each other while walking in the park.

"And how was it?" I asked. "Best coffee in the city?"

"Not really." Magnus smirked. "But I hate coffee."

Suddenly my heart was using my stomach as a trampoline. That was the moment I'd decided I really, _really_ liked Magnus Bane. When we arrived at the café, I was quick to grab the door and hold it open for Magnus to pass through first. When I followed, I pulled it shut tightly behind me and counted to five as quickly as I could manage. By the time I was finished, Magnus had chosen a two-seat table in the far corner. To my relief, he took the chair with his back to the door. A solid wall behind me and a clear view of the door was more my style. A waitress came over the moment we were seated and took our order: an Orange Pekoe tea and raspberry scone for Magnus, and Earl Grey tea and blueberry muffin for me. When she left, I steepled my hands on the table in front of me, but my fingers were already twitching so I moved them under the table where Magnus couldn't see . . . along with the hole in my shirt.

"So," Magnus cradled his chin in his hand. "Have you lived here all your life?"

"In this city? No." I shook my head. "I actually only moved here a couple weeks ago."

Magnus clucked his tongue. "Just moved here and already made a visit to the hospital."

"I like to visit the local landmarks," I joked, ducking my head. It wasn't really that funny, but Magnus laughed.

"Your mother and sister are back home, I assume?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Your sister is a pretty girl. I see good genes run in the family."

I couldn't tell if Magnus was flirting with me or hitting on my sister, so I only answered truthfully, "Those come from my mother."

"Not from your father?"

The mention of Robert Lightwood made my skin crawl. Suppressing a shudder, I moved my hand to the table to toy with the handle of a spoon. "Definitely not," I said with scorn.

"Not a good relationship?"

"Let's just say it's about as pleasant as World War Two."

The waitress came back to place our order on the table, and I nearly tore at the brown paper bag to get at the blueberry muffin inside. Too nervous to eat earlier on, I was now starving. Magnus added one packet of sugar to his tea and stirred it with the patience and grace of a monk. He picked up the cup with both hands and lifted it, smiling at me over the steaming rim. "So have you found work?" he asked, brushing aside the topic of my paternal DNA donor like a couple of crumbs.

"Yeah. It's a little book store. Luke Garroway owns it."

"Mmm." Magnus took a sip of his tea and set the cup down. "Can't say that I've heard of it. Maybe I'll stop in sometime."

My heart raced in my chest and I tried not to choke on a bite of muffin. "I'd like that."

Suddenly Magnus lifted a hand to cover a wide yawn. _This is it_ , I thought. _This is where he makes an excuse and bails._

"I'm so sorry," I said, trying to spare myself the humiliation of rejection. "I should have considered how tired you'd be after your shift. You should go and get some rest."

Magnus tilted his head, his eyes narrowed. "Are you kidding? _I'm_ the one who's sorry. I've been thinking about this since yesterday but I can't seem to hide my fatigue. I guess that means we'll have to reschedule."

 _Riiight,_ the voice in my head droned. _'Reschdule.'_

"Sure," I said, going along with the ploy.

"How's tomorrow?"

That caught me off guard. "Tomorrow?"

"Is tomorrow no good? We could do the day after."

"No!" I said, a little too sharply. "Tomorrow is great. Tomorrow sounds wonderful."

Perhaps my eyes were playing tricks on me, but I thought I saw Magnus's shoulders relax a little. "Again, I'm sorry for cutting this short," he apologized.

"Don't worry about it," I replied honestly. "Here, I'll get our tea put into to-go cups."

Magnus thanked me as I brought our tea up to the counter. While the drinks were being transferred I paid our bill. When I returned to the table with our mugs, Magnus was digging through his wallet for cash.

"Today was my treat," I told him.

Magnus's eyes twinkled. "You know, I'm not supposed to accept gifts from my patients," he teased.

"Today I'm not your patient. Today I'm your friend," I announced sternly.

His eyes raked over my body from head to toe, none too subtly. "I have good taste in friends."

Embarrassed, I laughed awkwardly and turned to the door. Magnus stopped me and held out my nearly-forgotten muffin. I blushed and took the bag from him, thanking him quietly. Magnus got to the door first this time, but instead of holding it open for me, he passed through first. I was not offended because this was not rude, this was observant. Grinning to myself, I pulled the door firmly shut behind us and mentally did my counting. Together, we walked to the end of the block, chatting about Magnus's cat and my lack thereof. At the corner, Magnus lightly bumped my elbow with his.

"Thank you for the date. Same time tomorrow at the hospital? We can go for breakfast."

 _Date?_ I swallowed hard. "It's a date. I just have one question." Magnus raised his eyebrow. "If you hate coffee, why were you going to get some when we met?"

Magnus shrugged. "Thought my taste buds had changed. Apparently not. It wasn't a total waste though. I did get to meet you." He then smiled his beautiful smile and began walking away, cup in hand. I watched him go until I could no longer see him, then I started for home, grinning the entire way.

Back at the apartment, I set my paper bag on the counter and threw the empty cup in the garbage, making sure the lid was on tight before directing my attention elsewhere. My good mood had faded slightly when I'd realized I'd forgotten to ask Magnus for his number. My instinct told me he wasn't going to cancel between now and tomorrow, but I would have liked to talk to him in the meantime to put my mind at ease. And to hear his voice. His delicious voice.

I reached into the bag to grab my muffin and as I pulled it out, two napkins came with it and fluttered to the floor. Grumbling to myself, I ignored the protests of my sore muscles and bent down to retrieve them. As I set them on the counter, something caught my eye. Moving the top napkin aside, I saw something had been written on the other one. Magnus's name and his phone number. All I could do was stare at it and smile.


	3. Chapter 3 (Flawed)

_**Got another chapter for you! Yay! Thanks for reading! Reviews are love! :)**_

* * *

Breakfast with Magnus was going splendidly, considering the nightmare I'd had just moments before bursting into wakefulness. I'd been careful to mask my apprehension when we met at the hospital, lest Magnus became aware of it and attempted to postpone our date. Either he hadn't picked up on it or he was too polite to say anything, but we carried on to the restaurant without speaking of it.

The restaurant to speak of was small but charming, with soft lighting and a color scheme of chocolate brown and baby blue. Outside there was a chill in the air, but the temperature inside was perfect. The warm, comforting scent of apple pie wafted around us.

Currently, Magnus was explaining in great detail all the surgeries he'd observed or taken part in. He was a surgical resident, and, judging by his enthusiasm and the absence of revulsion towards bodily disgustingness, I'd guessed that this was something he'd wanted to do since he was a young boy. I couldn't help but smile at the brightening of his eyes and the passionate movements of his hands; he was gorgeous when he talked about something he loved.

The waitress arrived with our food, interrupting Magnus's speech about a recent appendectomy. She placed the plate of pancakes in front of me and set the other in front of Magnus. He glanced at the bacon, eggs, and toast hungrily, and I felt a slight twist in my stomach. I wanted him to look at me like that.

I poured some syrup onto my breakfast and, after pushing past the mental image of various bodily fluids, took a bite. The pancakes were light and fluffy, absolutely delicious. It was all I could do not to moan in ecstasy.

"Didn't I tell you?" Magnus grinned at me. "Best pancakes in the city."

I swallowed and licked my lips. "Don't tell my mother, but I think these are better than hers." Magnus chuckled and I waved my fork at him. "Continue with your story."

"Oh please." He rolled his eyes. "I've been yammering on about myself all morning. It's about time someone stopped me. Right now I'd like to hear more about you, Alec Lightwood."

Suddenly I felt very shy. "There isn't much to know about me."

He cocked his head to the side and asked quietly, "When did the stemming start?"

I froze as fear traced a finger down my spine. His question was kind and warranted enough; I appreciated his phrasing instead of _What the fuck is wrong with you?_ Which I'd been asked before. Still, I'd been caught off guard, and my obvious flaws coming to light was another nightmare I'd carried with me for a long time.

"Hey." Magnus slid his hand forward until his fingertips were touching mine, and suddenly it was the fourth of July in my heart. "We don't have to talk about it."

 _He doesn't want to date you_ , the voice in my mind chirped, _he wants to diagnose you._

"I was only curious. I apologize."

Not wanting him to feel bad on our date, I shook my head. "It's okay." After a deep breath I added, "It started when I was young. Five or six years old."

Magnus took a bite of scrambled eggs, chewed, swallowed. "So you've been dealing with this for a long time."

I shrugged. "I guess."

"You're one of the strongest people I've ever met." This caught me off guard, and my aghast eyes met Magnus's. "I'm proud of you."

That was something I'd never heard from a stranger before. Warmth filled my chest, then my face. "T-thank you," I sputtered.

Magnus's fingertips slid an inch farther down my own fingers before he pulled his hand away. I suppressed a shiver, as if that tiny bit of contact had radiated heat through my core and it had suddenly been extinguished.

"So," Magnus cleared his throat, "tell me about your interests."

"Well, I like working and my favorite thing to do is blend into the background." Magnus met my joke with a frown, so I added hastily, "I'm also very good at cooking."

At that he perked up. "Really? And what would you say is your specialty dish?"

I thought for a moment. "I make a killer lasagna."

Magnus's blink was slow and almost . . . lustful. "Lasagna happens to be one of my favorites. I'd very much like to try this killer recipe of yours."

I raised another forkful of pancakes to my lips. "I'd be delighted to make some for you."

"How about tomorrow?"

I nearly choked on my food. The fork in my hand dropped onto my plate with a clang. I looked up, embarrassed, but Magnus was smiling at my awkward fumbling. He lifted his chin in a way that both dared and begged me to say yes.

"I-I can have one ready for you tomorrow."

"Great! So we'll have dinner at your place?"

My throat closed and my mouth fell open. "My place?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"My place isn't exactly. . . a spectacular setting."

"Do you live in a box under the freeway?"

"I− No."

"Then your place is spectacular." Magnus smiled comfortingly. "You'll be there. That's all that matters to me."

My heart thumped hard in my chest. All I could manage was a nod. He then proceeded to tell me about his grandmother's lasagna, and how it was the best he had ever eaten. I, suddenly feeling flirtatious, challenged him that mine was better. Magnus laughed and smirked at me; he dared me to make a bet.

I leaned forward on my elbows. "What do I get if I win?"

"Bragging rights." At my expression he continued, "That's no minor prize. This is a grandmother's cooking we're talking about."

I grinned. "All right. What do you get if you win?"

He looked me straight in the eye. "A kiss."

* * *

My heart was still pounding when I got back to my apartment. A kiss. Magnus Bane wanted to kiss me. Part of me wanted to throw the challenge and buy a crappy frozen lasagna, but half of me was terrified to let Magnus get that close. Relationships that intimate hadn't turned out well in the past.

My phone suddenly beeped, and, pulling it out of my pocket, I saw Magnus's name flash on the screen. **Glad I got to see you today, handsome.** My legs gave way beneath me and I collapsed onto the couch. Grinning to myself, I typed back **You're the highlight of my day.** The text was simple and innocent enough, but the giddiness I felt from flirting made me want to bury my smiling face into a pillow.

 **See you tomorrow night, Blue Eyes. I'll bring dessert. XOXO.**

It suddenly felt like an arrow had gone through me. One of Cupid's, I suspected. All I could manage to type back with my shaking fingers was **XOXO**. I allowed myself a few minutes of soaking up the exultance before I gathered my things to head to the store. I could let myself be hungry for Magnus's lips, but I would not let him be hungry for food.

* * *

Luke frowned when I walked through the shop's doors on time for my eight AM shift. He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes at me. "I was hoping you would reconsider our original agreement."

I lifted my arms and spun in a circle, showcasing myself. The tender muscles in my torso screamed in protest, but I refused to wince even slightly. "See? I'm fine."

"I've got to ask one more time, kid. Are you sure you wouldn't rather be at home resting up?" Luke asked, concern etched in his face.

I couldn't do anything in terms of sprucing up my apartment for tonight, but I'd already cleaned the space down to every nook and cranny. The lasagna was ready to be put into the oven when I got home, which left me only time to sit and make myself crazy until Magnus arrived at seven.

"I'm sure," I said resolutely.

Luke nodded with a sigh. He adjusted his glasses then put his hands on his hips. "You know the drill. Stocking and cleaning until lunch, then you'll switch off with Clary and work the counter."

I gave my boss a salute then watched him stalk off to his office in the back of the store. Not wanting my mind to wander, I set to work doing as I was told. It appeared Luke had needed my help more than he let on; there were dusty shelves everywhere and numerous books out of place. First I straightened up the volumes then gave the shelves a wipe down. Soon enough the entire store not only began to smell fresher, but was more appealing to the eye. Too nervous about that night, I worked straight through my lunch hour.

Clary came up behind me and whistled. "You're a regular Martha Stewart, Alec."

"If you ask me to come and clean your house when I'm finished, I will whack you with my feather duster."

She crossed her arms. "My house is as neat and tidy as it will ever be, thank you very much."

I handed her the container of lemon-scented wipes. "Keep up my good work."

Clary stuck her tongue out at me as I walked away. Business had started to pick up in the early afternoon, which made the clock run at twice the normal pace. As each minute ticked by, my excitement grew. Not even the grouchy customers fazed me. I was in an excellent mood by the time five-o-clock arrived.

Clary watched with a tilted head as I shoved my arms into my jacket and gathered my wallet and keys. "In a rush?" she asked.

"Kind of."

She leaned her hip against the front counter. "Details, Lightwood."

I made sure none of the remaining customers were in earshot before I said quietly, "I have a date tonight."

Clary squealed and clapped her hands. "Who is he?"

I grinned. "He's a surgical resident at the hospital."

"No way! You're dating a doctor?"

"I'm just making him dinner."

"Ah." She waggled her eyebrows. "And afterwards is he going to teach you all about anatomy?"

"Clary!" I cried, heat flaming in my cheeks.

She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh don't be so coy. I want all the details later, mister."

"Yes, ma'am," I promised, rushing past her and heading for the door. She called out for me to be safe, and I knew she wasn't referring to my personal safety as I walked down the street. As I closed the door and counted to five, I couldn't help but smile.

* * *

The smell of meat, cheese, and tomato sauce filled the apartment. My baking and rushing about had significantly raised the temperature in the apartment. Regardless, I had on my plaid shirt rolled up to the elbows. My hands felt clammy. It was only five after seven, but I couldn't help but think maybe Magnus was going to stand me up. He hadn't texted me. Maybe there was an emergency at the hospital.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. On unsteady feet I crossed the floor and peered out the peephole. Magnus's distorted form was standing outside. Pressing my hand against the wood of the door, I slowly counted to five, turned the knob, and gave a sharp yank.

Magnus's eyes met mine as the door swung wide. In one hand he had a bottle of wine and in the other was a small white box. "Alexander," he said by way of greeting. Without warning, he stepped forward and kissed me on the cheek.

I stood there blinking, completely flabbergasted. Feeling like a complete idiot after a moment, I stood aside and welcomed Magnus in. He walked past me, looking around curiously. I threw my weight against the door to close it and barely managed to contain a gasp of pain. Straightening quickly, I watched Magnus tour the tiny apartment.

"Alexander," he said, a little breathlessly. "It's perfect."

My shoulders relaxed as I sighed in relief. "It's really not much."

He approached me then, his eyes sultry. "I didn't come here for the apartment."

Our faces were mere inches apart, and I wanted nothing more than to feel his lips pressed against mine, wanting and hungry. He studied me and his eyes, for the briefest second, darted to my lips. Was he thinking the same thing?

"Are you hungry?" I blurted.

Magnus smiled. "Starving."

Relieving him of the wine and white box, I guided Magnus into the tiny kitchen. He told me he'd brought raspberry cheesecake so I tucked the box into the fridge. Armed with a corkscrew, Magnus set to work opening and pouring the wine while I grabbed plates and began to dish out lasagna, garlic bread, and Caesar salad. Magnus began opening and closing drawers in search of forks, and when he finally found them he bumped the drawer with his hip. But it didn't close all the way. My eyes locked onto the bit of remaining space and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Excusing myself, I reached in front of Magnus and closed the drawer tightly. Magnus didn't comment, but his smile was almost sympathetic. I hated myself in that moment.

With our plates and wine glasses in hand, we walked back to the living room and sat on the couch, bodies angled slightly toward one another. Magnus took a sip of his wine and set the glass on the floor. He dug his fork into the lasagna and held it to his lips.

"Moment and truth," he said.

I held my breath as he took that first bite. He chewed slowly, keeping his eyes downcast so as to betray nothing. Finally he gave a long sigh. "Oh my god," he said. "That is killer."

I smiled broadly. "Thank you."

"You're a culinary genius," he complimented, taking another large bite.

I shrugged modestly. "It's only lasagna."

We both tucked into our meals, not speaking much between bites. But the silence was not uncomfortable. It was oddly fascinating watching Magnus eat, the strong line of his jaw curving as he chewed, the shine of his lips as he drew his tongue over them, the bobbing of his Adam's apple as he swallowed.

After the main course, Magnus helped me dish out dessert for each of us, which we ate leaning against opposite counters in the kitchen. Raspberry cheesecake happened to be one of my favorites, so I savored every bite.

"This cheesecake is like ecstasy," I murmured around a forkful.

"I have a friend who works at a bakery. Cheesecake is her signature dish. She's almost famous in this city," Magnus explained.

"No kidding." I scooped up the final bite and chewed it as slowly as I could manage. Magnus swallowed the last of his wine as I put our dishes in the sink. He offered to help me clean up but I refused. When I turned around, Magnus was standing up straight inside of leaning, and I could have sworn he'd taken half a step closer to me.

"Thank you for the meal, Alexander," he said. "It was delicious."

I tried to stave off the rising blush and failed. "My pleasure. Thank you for sharing it with me."

"You know, I think you win." It took me a moment to realize he was referring to our bet. "Your lasagna is better." He turned then, to head back to the couch, when I suddenly and without thought reached out and grabbed his wrist. Magnus turned to face me again and this time it was me who took a step closer to him. My breath hitched in my throat, I stretched up and pressed my lips against his. I kissed him, relishing in the softness of his lips. It was only when my rational thought caught up with me that I yanked myself away from him, horrified with myself.

"I'm sorry−"

Magnus grabbed the front of my shirt and jerked me hard against him, his mouth crashing down over mine. His tongue slid past my teeth to touch against mine. His hands framed my face, holding me in place. My thoughts flashed momentarily to my nightmare, where as he kissed me, Magnus's hands drifted down my face to my neck, where his fingers wrapped around my throat and squeezed. Now, his hands slid upward into my hair, his fingers tangling into the strands. He tugged slightly and I groaned. Magnus turned us so his body pinned mine against the counter. He pulled away, leaving us both breathing heavily, and ripped open my shirt, sending buttons flying everywhere. Immediately I wanted to close the shirt again and cover myself, but Magnus had made himself busy by kissing a trail down my throat and to my chest. He took special care to kiss every bruise on my torso, and, when he slid the shirt down my arms, the circular scars along my shoulders. My hands were braced on the countertop, barely able to keep me on my feet.

Moaning in pleasure, I took Magnus's face in my hands and guided his mouth back to mine. I clawed at his shoulders, his hips, and pulled his body flush against mine. I was desperate to get rid of every fraction of space between us, frantic to feel every hard muscle of his against my body.

Suddenly Magnus grabbed my waist and lifted me. I instinctually wrapped my legs around his waist and continued to ravage his mouth as he carried me to the closed door of my bedroom. His bicep bulged as he shifted my weight into one arm while he opened the door with the other. A few steps later, he threw me onto the bed and crawled over me. I cupped his face and pulled him down against me, biting his lip between heavy breaths. Magnus groaned, grabbed both my wrists, and pinned them down above my head. His hips began to grind against mine in slow, tortuous undulations. When I could bear it no longer, I freed my hands from Magnus's grip and reached between us for his belt buckle.

That was when I noticed the open doorway. Magnus was oblivious to my frozen hands. He nibbled at my ear and nuzzled my neck, murmuring my name. I squirmed underneath him, suddenly uncomfortable. I closed my eyes, tried to relax. Tried to forget about the open door. My pulse started to race, and it was not because of Magnus.

"You okay?" he asked between kisses.

"Yeah," I lied, gritting my teeth.

His hands trailed gently over my bruised skin, falling lower and lower until they reached my belt. His fingers began to deftly work the clasp. My breath hitched in my throat, but not because of the pleasure. Magnus's mouth sealed over mine once again, and I tried to lose myself in the kiss, but not even counting helped. Over and over I tallied the numbers in my head, racing to five then starting over again. Finally I could stand it no longer.

"Get off me!" I shouted, shoving Magnus aside with my arm. I leapt off the bed and threw myself at the door, slamming it shut. _Onetwothreefourfiveonetwothreefourfive. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five._ My heart began to slow, and as I turned around I kept my eyes downcast with shame. Magnus had seen the worst side of me. I hated the fact that something as small as an open doorway could ruin our moment of passion.

Magnus was abruptly in front of me. He placed his finger under my chin and lifted my face. I expected to see anger in his eyes, thus my body tensed as I waited for his hand to strike me. Instead, he smiled and bent down to kiss me sweetly.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"For what?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

I slumped against the door. "For being me."

Magnus took my hand and pulled me back to the bed. We sat, side by side, then fell onto our backs. With a gentle push, Magnus rolled me onto my side and spooned his body behind me. His arms wrapped around my middle, squeezing gently and holding me in place. I relaxed into him, feeling my eyes sting at this kindness so foreign to me. I jumped slightly when his lips touched the back of my neck, but melted against him as his kissed every inch of my skin. I was completely unaware of his hand creeping lower until his palm rested over my groin. I gasped and he began to rub the area sensually. My hips rocked, following his rhythm. As my breathing quickened, Magnus undid my belt and button, lowered my zipper, and slipped his hand under my clothes. I sucked in a breath at the skin on skin contact, and as Magnus began to stroke me I lost myself in desire and moaned unabashedly. When the coiling of tension and pleasure began to stir in the deepest part of me, I bit down on my lip to try and stay quiet, but when Magnus stroked me and rammed his hard length against me, I was thrown over the edge into the abyss of sweet release. I came with a cry, my body going stiff before soothingly fluid.

Reaching his hand to turn my face, Magnus craned his neck and kissed me gently on the mouth. I whispered his name and tried to turn, intending to satisfy him the way he sated me, but he pressed a finger to my lips and pushed me down into the same position. Tucking our legs, he grabbed the duvet and covered us both. Magnus wrapped his arms around me again and nuzzled as close as he could manage. That was how we fell asleep: him inhaling my scent and me wrapped in his warm, protective embrace.


	4. Chapter 4 (Crash and Burn)

_**Got a new chapter for y'all! I hope you enjoy it, particularly the end. ;) Much love!**_

* * *

I rolled over and spread my arms wide, my hand seeking the muscled warmth of Magnus beside me, but instead all I found was the cool softness of the sheets. Confused, I peeled my eyes open and sat up. The door to my bedroom was closed and Magnus was nowhere in sight. Climbing out of bed and leaving my room, I searched the remainder of the apartment in hopes of finding the man who had spent the night in my bed. The hunt was fruitless. Magnus was gone, without even leaving a note.

The memory of the night prior hit me like a sack of bricks, particularly my outburst following the incident of the open door. That explained it: I'd managed to scare Magnus off. The voice in my head told me to accept his rejection, but my heart willed me to reach into my pocket, dig out my phone, and call him, to demand an explanation, to hear the words from his own mouth. Still, my thumb hovered over his name in my contact list. How many more scars could I take before my soul was ripped to shreds?

With a deep breath, I connected the call to Magnus's phone and raised the cell to my ear. The first ring seemed to last for a decade. The second ring was abruptly cut short. Surprise number one.

"Good morning, handsome," Magnus answered huskily. Surprise number two.

I stammered over my own words for a moment before I managed, "Good morning. Where are you?"

"My shift started early and I didn't want to wake you," he explained. "Are you all right? You sound strange."

"Just worried when I woke up and you weren't here." I braced myself. This was the perfect opportunity for him to start his 'it's not you it's me' speech.

"I would have called in sick if I could." Magnus lowered his voice. "I could watch you sleep all day."

"Really? You weren't put off by my. . . ?" My voice trailed off. I knew he'd understand what I was referring to.

"What? Of course not," Magnus reassured me. "That blunder was my fault."

"That's not true," I said, a tinge of sadness in my voice.

I could hear his sigh on the other end of the line. "Look, Alexander, I'm only going to say this once: There is nothing wrong with you. I had a great time last night. Okay?"

My heart soared. "Really?"

"Really. In fact, I had such a great time that I'd like to see you again."

My knees gave way and I plopped down onto the couch. "Really?" I said stupidly.

Magnus chuckled. "Really. Can I come by your place tonight?"

"Sure. I'm working until five."

"Great. I'll see you around six. Chinese for dinner? My treat."

I smiled. "Perfect."

"See you later, sexy." He hung up before I could choke out another word.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket and straightened. My fists punched the air victoriously and I stood there, grinning like an idiot.

* * *

Clary followed me around for most of my shift, poking and prodding at me for the dirty details of my date. She asked me what I served for dinner, questioned me about Magnus's kissing techniques, and, when the coast was clear, inquired about bases. I knew she wasn't referring to baseball.

"At least tell me his name," Clary begged, leaning against a shelf of mystery novels while I straightened the spines.

I sighed. "His name is Magnus Bane. Will you leave me alone now?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Magnus? Sounds like the name of a warlock or something."

"It probably is related to his lineage. Besides, what kind of name is Clary anyway?" I teased.

She whacked me on the shoulder. "So, he's coming again tonight? Emphasis on coming."

"How many times would I have to bang my head on this shelf for it to kill me?" I mused aloud.

"Emphasis on bang."

"Clarissa Fairchild!" I chided. "Would you stop holding a magnifying glass up to my sex life? I don't pester you about that boy. . . _Sigmund_ of yours."

"Simon," Clary corrected. "You won't get any details out of me. Our relations are very vanilla."

With a groan, I threw up my hands and left her laughing amongst the mysteries.

* * *

There was a knock on my door at six-o-clock on the nose. I opened it without checking the peephole, and before I could say hello, Magnus's mouth was covering mine. A bag of Chinese food rustled in his one hand, while the other found my waist and pulled me against him. I nearly whimpered when he pulled away.

"Hello, Alexander," he whispered, his forehead touching mine.

"Magnus," I said breathlessly.

He stepped around me and into the apartment, closing the door behind him with a strong kick. His eyes travelled from my head to my toes and up again, making me squirm. "You look particularly ravishing this evening," he said in the straightforward tone of a doctor. "Any orgasms lately?"

I blanched, feeling my cheeks burn with the brazenness of his question. Magnus laughed and moved closer to me, his hand coming up to cup my cheek.

"I love making you blush," he whispered.

"Hungry?" I asked, fumbling for something coherent to say. I reached down to take the bag of Chinese food from him. "I'll get the plates."

My body was hyper-aware of him as he followed me into the kitchen. I set the bag on the counter and stretched up to reach into the cupboard for dinnerware. Suddenly Magnus's hand was on my bare skin where my shirt had ridden up. I froze, sucking in a sharp breath. Both hands at my waist, Magnus turned me around so I was facing him. His fingers curled around the belt loops of my jeans and pulled me flush against him.

"I'm starved," he murmured before diving forward to kiss me.

My fingers snaked up Magnus's neck and curled into his hair. I tugged on the strands, making him growl. I pulled back to catch my breath and Magnus moved his attention to the sensitive skin at my throat. I gasped as he bit down on the curve between my shoulder and neck. As his mouth worked magic on me, his fingers set to work deftly undoing my belt and opening the front of my jeans. He slid down my body until he was kneeling in front of me. My hands moved from Magnus's hair to the counter to steady me. Magnus wasted no time in freeing me, already erect, from my jeans and taking me into his mouth.

My gasp drawled into a moan as Magnus's tongue slid up and down the length of me. Already I could feel myself teetering on the edge. My head lolled back as I tried to keep my breathing in check. Magnus took me deep into his mouth and made a swallowing motion with his throat. That pushed me over the edge. I cried his name as I spilled into Magnus's mouth. He swallowed several times before licking me clean. He crawled up my body and kissed me hard. My fingers clutched at his shirt, not wanting an inch of space between us.

"Any room for the main course?" Magnus whispered lustily.

"God, yes," I sighed.

Our mouths crashed against each other as we clumsily hurried to my bedroom, leaving the Chinese food on the counter to get cold.

* * *

The two of us were curled against each other in my bed, naked. Magnus's fingers were tracing lazy shapes across my back while I let my eyes roam over the angles of his face, down the curve of his throat, and across the dips and divots of his chest. I tried not to flinch as the pads of his fingers skimmed here and there over the scars marring my shoulders.

"Where did you get these?" he asked quietly.

My pulse jumped in my throat. I knew it was inevitable that he would ask, but I'd held on to the hope that he wouldn't. "Remember my disdain for my father?"

Magnus stiffened next to me. "Did he do this to you?"

I averted my eyes. "He used to burn me with cigarettes when I was a kid."

"Jesus, Alec. That's horrible. I'm so sorry."

I shrugged. "He didn't get away with it very long. When my mom found the burns, when she found out he was abusing me and not just her, she moved my sister and I out of the house. She filed for divorce and pressed charges against him."

"That son of a bitch." Magnus's hand found mine and squeezed.

I drew in a shaky breath. "He's also the reason for the doors, or rather the reason behind why I need them to be closed. He used to hide in open doorways and grab me when I was walking by, either to beat me or give me a good shake. When the doors were closed I felt safe, and they helped drown out of the sound of my father beating my mother."

Magnus wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him. "I'm so sorry, Alec."

I was rigid in his embrace. "It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago."

After a moment of silence, Magnus said, "My parents didn't want me when I was a child. They neglected me. I believe that if my grandmother hadn't filed for custody, I'd be dead."

"Aren't we a pair?" I said, prodding at humor.

The corner of Magnus's mouth twitched. "A couple of walking sob stories."

"What's your grandmother like?"

"She was amazing. A small lady with a giant heart."

I noted the past-tense of his words. "I'm sorry."

"She passed a couple years ago. I miss her, but I know she's at peace. She left me her house in her will, and there her memory is alive and well."

"I'd love to see her house sometime, to see what she was like."

Magnus hesitated and then said, almost reluctantly, "I'd like that."

I wondered if I'd trespassed onto delicate territory; perhaps Magnus didn't want to share such precious memories with me. But my mind strayed even further and I considered the possibility that Magnus wasn't as invested in such an intimate relationship. Maybe he was only concerned with the physical aspect.

I sat up. "I'm sorry if I over-stepped my boundary−"

Magnus shot upright. "No, it's not that. I just need to . . . check my work schedule."

I nodded, though I didn't really believe him. Magnus pulled me down next to him and curled an arm around my waist, holding me close. He pressed his lips against my temple and rested his forehead against mine.

"My shift starts at eight tomorrow morning. Walk me to work?"

I smiled despite myself. "It's a date."

* * *

We stood side by side on the subway, crammed inside the tube with all the other morning commuters. Our hands were at our sides, but occasionally Magnus touched my elbow with his. Every second of contact brought a smile to my lips, no matter how discreet. We got off a stop early so we could enjoy each other's company for a bit longer as we walked. As we weaved through throngs of people and waited for crosswalk signals, Magnus's pinky finger curled around mine. He held on and then let go before any hostile eyes took notice. Outside the hospital, Magnus turned to face me, a fair amount of space between us.

"Thanks for walking with me," he said. "It's nice when the commute isn't so lonely."

I looked at him slyly. "Thanks for dinner last night."

Magnus opened his mouth to say something cunning when his attention was diverted by someone calling his name. His eyes widened for only a moment before he turned away from me, a broad smile pasted on his face. He moved away from me, his hand raised in a wave. I followed the movement of his body, watched as he approached a broad-shouldered blonde and hugged him. I stood there and waited for an introduction, one that didn't come, at least not until the blonde noticed me and asked Magnus about my presence.

Magnus took the blonde's hand, a motion that made my stomach drop, and pulled him over to me. "Jace, this is Alexander. We ran into each other on the subway. He's an old patient of mine."

Jace's eyes raked me up and down. He held out his hand for me to shake and squeezed a little harder than necessary. "Nice to meet you."

I looked at Magnus, hoping he'd catch the question in my eyes, but all his attention seemed to be focused on the shiny new toy between us.

"Alec," Magnus finally said, "I'd like you to meet Jace. My boyfriend."


	5. Chapter 5 (Bruises)

_**Hi, everyone. Sorry for the crap chapter, but I wasn't feeling that well today. Still, I didn't want to leave y'all hanging so I put together what I could. For all of those wondering if this story is focused on Jace/Magnus, no it is not. Malec forever! Things will work out. I'll make sure of it. :) Thanks for reading! 3**_

* * *

Magnus disappeared from my life for four days. It felt as though a part of me had been torn away, like my skin had been ripped clean of my flesh, and the bleeding never stopped. Magnus lurked in my dreams and in my thoughts, night and day. I waited out of desperation for him to contact me, but it seemed his silence was my answer. He didn't need me, didn't want me. I was nothing more to him than a fling, a quick affair. The feeling of worthlessness brought a rapid decline in my mood that I'd hoped I'd never have to deal with again.

Clary was the first to notice the shift in my temperament. She steered clear of me the shift following Magnus's bombshell, giving me a wide berth and dulling down her witty banter to small chitchat. She must have guessed something was amiss in the relationship because she refrained from bringing up Magnus's name or anything related to dating. On the fourth day, however, she'd obviously had enough of my sullen mood.

"Spill it, Lightwood," she demanded, appearing at my side. "Whose ass do I have to kick?"

I didn't turn to face her. "Do your services include breaking fingers?"

Clary pushed my shoulder, angling me toward her. "I'm being serious, Alec. What's going on? I'm worried about you."

I sighed. "You know the guy I was dating? Turns out I wasn't the only one dating him."

She blinked. "Magnus is seeing someone else?"

"Sounded pretty serious too, considering Magnus introduced me to his boyfriend."

Clary snatched the book I was holding out of my hand. "Give me an address. He's going to regret his actions, I promise you."

I grabbed the book back and put it on the shelf. "Forget about it. It wasn't serious between us."

"Maybe not, but you were happy, Alec. I saw a difference in you, a glow, when you talked about him. Now it's gone."

Unwanted emotions began to surface. "Look, Clary, can we please just drop it? He's obviously over me, I'll get over him. End of discussion."

A hurt look flashed across her face. "Fine. Just know that if you need anything, I'm here for you." She spun on her heel and hurried back up to the front desk. We avoided each other for the remainder of our shift. At closing time, her boyfriend Simon arrived to pick her up. I watched discreetly as he kissed her on the cheek and helped her into her jacket, but I had to look away when they clasped hands and headed for the exit. I waited a few minutes to put some space between them and myself, and then walked out of the shop, closing the door behind me and counting to five.

Back at my apartment, I leaned against the counter and swirled a spoon around the bowl of now-cold soup in front of me. I knew I'd lost weight in the past couple days, but my stomach tightened at the thought of eating. Disgusted, I pushed the bowl away and headed to my bedroom, intending to go to sleep early. As I removed my shirt and climbed under the duvet, my phone began to ring. I picked it up, expecting to see Clary's number on the screen, but when I saw Magnus's name I felt an icy hot surge go through me. My stomach twisted and my heart pounded as I debated answering the call. I was afraid of what Magnus had to say, but I also wondered if this was a trick, if Jace had grown suspicious and was calling me on Magnus's phone. In my hesitation, my voicemail picked up. A wave of relief washed over me, until the notification of a new voice message popped up on the screen. My hand trembled as I accessed my voicemail and lifted the phone to my ear.

"Alec, it's Magnus." His voice brought an ache to my heart. "Please call me back. I know you're upset with me, but I can explain everything. Please, _please_ , call me back. I never meant to hurt you, Alec."

The voicemail clicked off. I set the phone down and steepled my fingers, counting to five mentally as I debated calling Magnus back. He sounded sincere enough in his message, but he'd managed to convince me that he had feelings for me when all along he'd been sharing his heart with someone else. I wanted to hear what he had to say, but I didn't know if he deserved any more of my time. In the end, I decided on the mature path. I picked up the phone and dialed his number.

He answered on the second ring. "Hello? Alec?"

"I don't have all day, so let's hear this explanation of yours," I said shortly.

He sighed, and I pictured him running his fingers through his dark hair. "I know you're pissed at me, and you have every right to be, but please just give me a few minutes of your time."

"That's what I'm doing right now."

"No, I mean face-to-face. I want you to come to my grandmother's house, my house, so we can talk about this."

I went on the defensive. "You left me standing in front of the hospital, Magnus. Why should I give you the time of day?"

"Because my relationship status doesn't change how I feel about you, Alexander."

I shook my head. "Is this the part where you promise you're going to leave your boyfriend and I believe you like a complete idiot?"

Magnus let out a long breath. "Please, Alec. I'm begging you. Give me ten minutes."

I closed my eyes and counted to five, slowly. Twice. "What's the address?"

* * *

The neighborhood was by no means upscale, but it seemed friendly enough. The houses were small but charming, the lawns were faded green but mowed, and here and there were couples walking their dog and pushing strollers down the sidewalk.

My leg hadn't stopped bouncing since the moment I set foot in the cab. As anxious as I was to get into a taxi, there wasn't another option. It was too far to walk to Magnus's, there wasn't a subway station nearby the drop-off location, and I'd missed the most recent bus. The next one would be along in half an hour, but Magnus had insisted that we meet as soon as possible, while Jace was out.

I double checked the address in Magnus's text and asked the driver to pull over. I paid him in cash and got out of the car, my hand flapped at my side. Before I was halfway up the front walkway, the front door opened and Magnus stepped outside. I stopped in my tracks and gave him a quick once-over. He seemed well enough: fresh, unwrinkled outfit, neatly styled hair, clean-shaven face. I knew by the look on his face that he couldn't see past my thinning face, mussed hair, and dark circles under my eyes. He at least had the good grace to look guilty. He stepped aside and gestured for me to enter the house. I wordlessly walked up the front steps and stepped inside, glancing around.

Pictures crowded the walls, mostly of Magnus as a child and teenager, but a few looked more recent and included who I could only assume to be his grandmother. She had unruly gray curls and eyes that matched Magnus's, only hers were slightly enlarged behind a pair of glasses. Grandmotherly knickknacks covered tables and counters. In the corner of the living room was a rocking chair, and on the floor beside it was a basket of yarn balls and knitting needles.

I sat on the plush beige sofa and rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans. Magnus took a seat in the chair adjacent to me and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

"Your grandmother's house is lovely," I said quietly, unsure of what else to say.

"Jace and I don't live together," Magnus said abruptly. "I'm not here very often anymore. Jace prefers we stay at his place. He doesn't like that I own property."

I looked away from him, unwilling to give him my pity just yet. "Sounds oppressive."

"I'm going to break up with Jace, Alec."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because he _is_ oppressive. And I think you know what that feels like."

I went still. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Magnus lifted the sleeve of his t-shirt, revealing finger-shaped bruises on his bicep. "He grabbed me the other day, hard enough to do this. And then he called me a cheating whore. It's the first time in a while that he's left a mark on me. The last time I threatened to leave him he promised to get better, which apparently meant upgrading from physical abuse to verbal abuse. I'm not foolish enough to think I can change him or that he'll change for me, so I'm going to break up with him."

"I'm sorry," I said, at a loss for words again.

Magnus pointed to his arm. "I've had bruises worse than these before. Bruises that looked a lot like the ones you had the day you were admitted to the hospital. You know what it's like to be in a physically abusive relationship, don't you, Alec?"

My body tensed. "We're not here to talk about me."

"You're right. We're not. The point is, you understand how important it is for me to get out of my relationship. You also understand how important it is to have support from the ones you care about. I don't have any family left, which leaves you, Alec. I care about you, and I need you."

"How do I know you're not just saying what I want to hear?" I asked quietly.

"Because I don't appreciate being manipulated, and I'm not about to manipulate you. That's a promise."

I felt my eyes sting. "You hurt me, Magnus."

He rose from his chair and came over to sit next to me. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he lifted his arm and wrapped it around my shoulders. I allowed myself to lean into him, to breathe in his scent once again.

"The last thing I'd ever want to do is cause you pain. I'm so sorry, Alexander."

I nodded against his shoulder. His finger crept under my chin, lifting my face so our gazes met. His eyes moved from mine to my lips. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth against mine. I sighed against his lips, remembering how much I missed the taste of him. The kiss deepened feverishly, and soon Magnus was parting my teeth with his tongue. He pushed me back against the couch and climbed over me, caging me in with his body. My hands wrapped around his neck as his fingers slipped under my shirt to grasp my waist. He lowered his pelvis, grinding his hips against mine.

Against my body's wishes, I pressed my hand against Magnus's chest and gently pushed him away. His brow furrowed as he climbed off me, but he did not protest. I wiped my bottom lip with my thumb and sat up straight, readjusting my shirt.

"Even if Jace is as awful as you say he is, I don't feel right about sneaking around behind someone's back."

Magnus remained on the couch as I got up and made for the door. I opened it, but stopped and looked back at him before stepping through. "Come find me when you're single, Magnus. I'll be waiting."


End file.
